Delivery Day

For some reason, I feel like pregnancy and delivery has been everywhere I look recently. Pregnant friends, new job ventures, crazy movie trailers. Okay. . . and I'm kind of obsessed with all things baby, so it's not like I ever STOP thinking about it. Nevertheless. . .

Even though B was born just a mere 16 months and 3 weeks ago, I am already starting to forget some of the details. And since this blog is for her to look back at, too, I thought documenting that day might be an exciting thing to reminisce down the road. So. . . here we go!

It's important to the story to mention that I had crazy contractions throughout the majority of my pregnancy. Like. . . from 14 weeks on. Around 36 weeks, I started having "pre-labor" contractions. When they started, I was sure I was in labor. I was having contractions every 7-9 minutes for HOURS. The doctor explained the "pre-labor" nature. . . and said I could go into labor anytime. . . or they could just fade. They faded. And returned the next day. And the next. And the next. For the next month, I had these pre-labor contractions every day from about 2pm-9pm.

Another important details was my career at the time. I was a marine mammal trainer. My doctor was very much into pregnant women doing everything they would normally do (keeps you healthy!) so she put me on no restrictions. (Although I admit I did get a few restrictions from my family doctor. I refused to lift more than 50 lbs and didn't want to work with polar bears in zero degree temps surrounded by slippery ice all day). So every day, I was doing lots of lifting, running around, and living the crazy life of a typical zookeeper. So really, it's no surprise that the stresses of the job MAY HAVE caused some intense contractions. All day. And by 8 or 9pm, my body recouped from the day and the contractions stopped. Joy.

So after 4 weeks of these "pre-labor" contractions, I was about at my wits end. Around 39 weeks, I would several trips home from work crying because I was a) hormonal and b) so freekin' uncomfortable and exhausted. February 4th, the day before B's due date, I was driving home, trying not to cry telling my sister about my continued contractions, with her again telling me over and over, "Just go to the hospital!" The worst they could do was send me home.

I'm all for babies coming when they are ready. I don't like the idea of forcing anything unnaturally. So every night my sister told me to go to the hospital, I put it off, suffered through another day, and went on. I called her (and my mom) again at 9:30 when the contractions hadn't stopped. Lee had just fixed me a delicious dinner of meatloaf, potatoes, carrots, and crescent rolls, and I wasn't the least bit interested in eating it. I called the doctor. She didn't think I was in labor, but when she heard me continue to go on and on an on about my discomfort, she told me to go ahead and go in and see what happened.

So - dinner uneaten - we packed up and headed out. When we got there they took my blood pressure and found it was high. I can't remember exactly how high. . . I think it fluctuated from around 120/80 to 100/60? Do those numbers even make sense? I just remember the first number never got below 100. . . So, it was official; I got to stay!

I can't remember exactly where I was as far as dilation/effacement. . . I just remember it was higher than my last OB appointment from 2 days ago. I think it was about 4.5cm and 80% effaced. But I had been at 3.5-4cm and 60-75% effaced since 32 weeks, so that didn't really mean much to me, except that MAYBE I really was in labor and progressing somewhere. After a month of this pre-labor stuff, I wasn't really sure of anything anymore.

They hooked me up to all of their gadgets. I tried to sleep, but couldn't. I don't remember what time the doctor came in. . . maybe 11pm? She said I was still contracting regularly -- about every 3-5 minutes, but she couldn't tell if I was really in labor. My BP was still high. She asked about pitocin, which I didn't want. . . so she broke my water instead. Then all hell broke loose.

Anyone who knows me knows that I don't tolerate pain well. But this was child birth and for one reason or another I wanted to "experience" it. I wanted to at least TRY to go without. My sister (a super-hero) had her second drug free, so I figured why not give it a shot? So I declined when the nurse offered and she told me to be sure I gave a 15 minute warning if I did decide I wanted it, because it would take time for the anesthesiologist to come down. Ok. I can do that.

I honestly don't remember how much time passed between that moment and when I decided I wanted an epidural. Maybe a few hours? They intensified VERY quickly, to the point where they were only a few minutes apart and I was hurting enough that I couldn't stand. Walking to the bathroom was out of the question; I knew if I had a contraction mid-walk I would probably fall over. People say it is like pain you've never known. . . they were so right! So right, it makes me laugh just thinking about how clueless most average, non-moms are about it all. So anyways, I was done. I told the nurse I was ready for my drugs.

15 minutes came and went. When you are hurting, every minute feels like hours. Well, that's obviously exaggerating, but time DEFINITELY goes much much slower. Then it was 30 min. Then 45. Then 60. I sent my sister out to find out what was going on. Apparently, me and 4 or 5 (or was it 7 or 8?) other women all decided they all wanted to have a baby and an epidural at the same time. . . so I had a line to wait in. Once again, another detail slipped my mind, because I can't remember how long it was before the anesthesiologist finally showed up. I think just over 2 hours, but maybe that's exaggerating. (Like walking up a hill 5 miles both ways in the snow to get to school). Either way, I was so far gone by the time that lady finally walked in.

When you get an epidural you're supposed to sit completely still, which seems practically impossible when you are literally writhing in pain. But I got it and WOW was it amazing. I managed to then get a few hours of sleep between 3am-6am.

The nurse came to check on me at 6am and I was 10cm and ready to go. (Wonder how long I'd been there?!) We waited for my doctor to come in for the day at 7am and got started pushing.

B started crowning pretty quickly. I was so excited; she's finally coming!! My little chunker was blessed with her momma's big head, though. And it didn't want to come through.

Two hours into pushing, the Dr. Priddy (my doctor) told me that we could try the suction. If that didn't work, we needed to look into a sectarian. I'd been pushing for 2 hours on 3 hours of sleep, so i was exhausted, but the thought of just ripping her out of me after all of that trouble was devastating. I'm into statistics, so I asked her if she did use the suction, how often would she say it is successful. She said 9 times out of 10. I felt good about those odds, so we went with it.

Suction #1 didn't work. I held back tears and Dr. Priddy could probably tell I really didn't want a C-section. . .so we tried pushing again w/o tools. And then suction again. And more pushing. Once again - not sure how many times we went back and forth, but enough times to get us to over 3 hours of pushing. We gave it another go, I got my epsiotomy, and she was FINALLY out.

My 8lb 10oz bundle of joy was finally here! She was healthy. . . had all 10 fingers and toes. . . and was overall just perfect. She took to nursing right away (my biggest worry) with some help from the nurse helping her get her first latch. It was amazing.

When I tell the story, it sounds really awful. But it really wasn't. When I was in the middle of it, I was just so excited, I really didn't mind it all. I even remember thinking, "This isn't as bad as I thought it'd be!" It was all worth it times 100. Yes, it was more pain than I could've ever imagined. . . which I know I had heard, but really. . . you have no idea until you give birth yourself. Yes, I was exhausted. Yes, I was sore for a long time. I also developed severe anemia and it took several weeks before I felt like myself again. But what I got for it -- my baby girl -- I would do it 50 times all over again and it would STILL be worth it.

Looking back, I sometimes still wonder if I really was in labor or not. How much longer would I have had contractions? Would they have eventually stopped. . . just maybe not until the next morning? I feel guilty about having my water broken and rushing B into the world. The crunchy side of me. . . and I wonder if she would've popped out at 1 hour of pushing instead of 3 if I would've gotten an episotomy sooner (Me and Dr. Priddy had discussed my episotomy fears at previous appointments).

The suction did leave a bump on her head that later scabbed, but it healed normally and I never noticed any problems from it. The day I was discharged from the hospital was Superbowl Sunday, and also the day I got a call from work that Sundance, a dolphin I worked closely with who had been suffering from illness, passed away. With all of my hormones. . . I was hysterical. So that really put a damper on the day. . . week. . . month. . . but having a sweet baby to hold surely made it easier. We had a rough first night home. All she wanted to do was nurse and would only sleep in 15 min increments. But it got easier. And easier. And maybe a little harder. But easier again eventually.

Like I've said before, being a mother is amazing. Just as much as you don't understand the pain until you experience it, you also can't understand the love you will feel until you are holding that little baby in your arms. It truly is the most amazing feeling you will ever feel in the world. However, if baby #2 could come out a LITTLE bit faster. . . I wouldn't be complaining.

Birth video: (PG, I promise)
http://youtu.be/IEGMD4GyMSI